The aftermath of the captivating talk in the orchard
by Amaranthe Athenais
Summary: This is a "what if" story beginning from Scarlett and Ashley's conversation in the orchard after Ashley came back from the war. Will Scarlett overcome her infatuation with Ashley? What about Rhett's place in Scarlett's life?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Scarlett and Ashley: the aftermath of the captivating talk in the orchard**

"Ashley, you don't need to leave Tara," Scarlett said clearly and confidently. "I won't have you all starve, simply because I've thrown myself at your head. It will never happen again. I am just too tired of everything. You are right."

She said that and left him alone. Ashley saw how Scarlett turned away and made her way back toward the house. He saw her small frame disappearing on the horizon as she was going farther and farther from him across the rough winter fields. He saw how she squared back her small thin shoulders and twisted her hair into a thick knot upon her neck. In all her posture, still gorgeous and eye-catching despite the difficulties of starvation, severities of work in the fields, and the burden of running the entire household at Tara, Ashley saw bittersweet frustration and defeat, fatigue, and deep heartbreak. Ashley was stunned with her beauty, although she wasn't wearing her pretty dresses, bonnets, and shoes which she used to have in abundance before the war and before everything was gone, before all the life was gone, as he reasoned. No, it doesn't matter what she is wearing - a beautiful elegant dress, stressing the slimness of her figure, her tiny waist, and the grace of her swoon neck, or simple dirty lacerated working clothes. She was beautiful in everything, Ashley thought.

As Scarlett had again confessed in her undying love for him, Ashley's heart was tearing apart in doubts and willingness to accept her proposal and escape from the ruined South. Even being a true Southern gentleman, Ashley couldn't ignore the fact that he was attracted to Scarlett. It was like a sense of magnetism and physical gratification for Ashley as he couldn't get rid of any memories related to Scarlett: memories of their last picnic at Twelve Oaks; memories of her love profession to him in the library at Twelve Oaks; memories of the moment in Atlanta when he asked her to take care for Melanie. Now she was ready to give up everything to be with him, to live only for him, and to devote all her life to him. What could he do with his memories and thoughts about Scarlett and her beauty, her pale green eyes without any hazel pigmentation, her full rosy lips? What should Ashley answer to Scarlett when she proposed to escape from the South? She proposed to run away boldly and unashamedly, and she did that in the moment of her spiritual madness and her utter exhaustion creeping in her heart and her soul. What did Ashley feel for that beautiful green-eyed woman who saved his wife Melanie and his son Beau from death during the war?

Ashley's heart was beating faster and faster, nearly jumping out of his chest. His breathing was erratic, and he sighed heavily, with relief that she had been gone and with vexation that he no longer had had her in his strong arms. He sighed again. Then he smiled and sighed over and over again. One part of Ashley's heart was telling him to accept Scarlett's bold, even crazy proposal, but the other one warned him to push her away as far as it was possible and to stay in distance from her. Ashley knew that he had to stay with his wife Melanie and his son Beau. As a result, the rational part of his mind overweighed the spontaneous, mad desires of his heart, and he poked Scarlett away by saying that he was going to take Melanie and the baby and to leave Tara. Why did he do that?

Ashley had to stay with Melanie and his small son because he followed the Southern code of honor and because he had his obligations to his family. It was his natural duty that couldn't have been breached. He had to stay with his wife who loved him from the bottom of her heart and never suspected about the hidden desires of her husband's heart. Ashley also knew that he not only had, but also wanted to stay with Melanie because he couldn't live without her. She was in his blood and could seize his meaning at once. She was his kindred spirit and was weaved from the same fabric as he. They were so much alike, and Ashley realized it wholeheartedly. Melanie was the gentlest and the best of his dreams and a part of his day dreaming. She was like a lady from one of his favorite books, and he was like a main hero in the same book. They both were like two people resigned to live in some sort of unreal world, which they both worshiped and loved, but which was gone now.

"Scarlett is too real for me, and I am so afraid of this harsh unpredictable reality," Ashley thought. He inhaled deeply and shut his grey eyes as the onslaught of reality immobilized his body and brain.

Ashley confessed to himself that he adored Scarlett for the qualities of character which he didn't possess. She was a stubborn woman, a headstrong woman, while he had never had any stubbornness, being gentle and soft, respective and sensitive. Scarlett had undeniable courage and great passion for living, energy and vivacity. She had a nature of great survivor who could rise from ashes through difficulties to the shining stars, Ashley mused. She possessed an ability to accept reality in its true kind and to adapt to that reality. Ashley knew that Scarlett was a fighter taking life by the horns and twisting it to her will. He couldn't do that by himself, but he saw that she could do that easily, much better than many men around had been able to do that. There were so few women who were like Scarlett was. Nobody could replicate Scarlett O'Hara, Ashley thought. She was unique.

In contrast to Scarlett, Ashley couldn't face and accept harsh reality and transform it to the forms he could live in and wished to live in. He was a weak and codependent personality, and, truth to be said, Ashley knew it somewhere deeply into his heart and soul. Now, when Scarlett was gone across the rough fields and he was finally left alone, he admitted that he was too weak man for Scarlett. He learnt that if he had married Scarlett instead of Melanie, now, in the after-war time, he would have been completely dependent on her, being as helpless as a small child. Before the war, Ashley knew that Scarlett was much stronger than he was, but at that time he didn't see so clearly how much stronger and headstrong she was as compared to him. Now, at the Tara that no longer was in its former glory, Ashley witnessed Scarlett's will of power on a daily basis. And he adored her for this will of power, her vivacity and ability to survive through so many hardships, but he knew that it would have been very difficult for him to have such a wife like Scarlett. His gentleman's pride wouldn't allow him to depend completely on his wife and show the rest of the world that he couldn't live without her shoulder and couldn't support the family.

Besides, Ashley knew that Scarlett was very different from him. She didn't understand his spiritual mind wandering, his passion for poetry and books. She saw life from immensely another angle. Scarlett was going ahead and ahead on her road, despite all the hardships and troubles on her way. Ashley knew that Scarlett was doing it, not thinking deeply about the true sense of her life and what this life will bring to her in the long run. He saw that, despite all her strength, Scarlett frequently acted like a small offended child who unwrapped the present and found an empty box. She was often like a child who took away a piece of a sweet cake from another child, not thinking about his or her feelings, and was pleased with this cake for today.

Ashley smiled when these thoughts and comparisons fulgurated his tired mind. No, she was completely different from him and didn't understand his internal world, like Melanie did. Scarlett wasn't his kindred spirit, and Ashley was absolutely convinced in it. He concluded that he could never live in harmony and happiness with Scarlett as they were absolutely different. Even now, before Scarlett's passionate impulsion to escape from Tara to Mexico, she didn't understand his talk about the war and about his fears that he couldn't find a place in the new world of the ruined South. No, she could never understand him.

"Scarlett didn't understand that I cannot go back to the old life and to the old dreams. She didn't realize that there is no place for me in this new world," Ashley contemplated, looking ahead on the fields. "She doesn't understand me. She will never understand that this new life for me is worse than war and prison and, maybe, even worse than death. In contrast to other people, she doesn't know fear."

Ashley sighed heavily, took the axe in his rough hands, and continued to split into rails the logs hauled from the swamp. Although he wanted to concentrate on his major task for the next several months –replacement of the fences burned by the Yankees – he couldn't forget Scarlett's green pleading eyes and the taste of her lips as he kissed her and she kissed him back. Ashley felt a great physical attraction to her as he longed for the minute when he kissed her in the outburst of shameful sudden passion. He knew that he wanted her as a woman – she was very beautiful, womanly beautiful, and Ashley knew that her gorgeous body was a dream of every man. He wasn't immune to her seductive allure. She was like a temptress for him, a sweet forbidden fruit, which he couldn't have and which he doubted he would ever have. Ashley longed for her passion for living and her beauty.

Ashley looked at the axe in his hand and the pile of logs on the ground. He smiled and said in his mind that Scarlett was like a spring for him because she reminded him about the old South and their last picnic at Twelve Oaks before the war. He kissed her because he wanted her as a woman and because this kiss let him feel warmth and vividness in his body, which he no longer had in his own body and, in contrast to him, she had. She breathed this spring in his tired body and worn-out soul, but this happened in only one sweet moment. This kiss let him feel the ease, carelessness, and indolence of the pre-war time again instead of the bitter years of hardships and fears ahead. But as soon as Ashley remembered that his old world was ruined, he broke the kiss and decided to put Scarlett away. She was too unreal for him. He loved Melanie, his wife, his soul mate and his perfect match for a life-long marriage. In the meantime, Ashley longed for Scarlett against his own will as he wanted Scarlett as a woman, physically, and loved in her the qualities of her character, which he didn't have. Maybe, he even loved two women simultaneously. How strange the world was for him!

Ashley paused in his work and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was very slow in repairing the fence, and he was very tired of it. He looked at his hands and let an ugly laugh to come from his throat as he again realized that his hands weren't made for rough work that was done by slaves in the pre-war South. Looking at this fence and the endless work ahead, then again at his hands, unskillful and rough from hard physical work, Ashley sighed deeply several times as a tide of despair and self-acknowledgement of his own helplessness and misery overcame his body.

Ashley wasn't thinking about how Scarlett would find money to pay taxes for Tara as he was too afraid of what would happen with all of them ahead. He was too frightened of this new life, and this fear paralyzed him. Instead, his crystal and grey eyes gradually became remote from Tara, the Clayton County, and the defeated South as his train of thought traveled back to the time of his youth, world of shadows and absence of hardships, his now ruined world.

"The South will never be the same as before the war. What will we all do? What will happen with us, the Southerners when our civilization was ruined and another one is coming? The reality is too cruel for me," Ashley thought sorrowfully.

As Ashley Wilkes continued his inward musings about Scarlett and Melanie and the old South, Scarlett turned away from Ashley and was now walking through the fields towards the house. She looked at the ramshackle house and empty uncultivated fields, and her heart went to her feet. She felt how a huge lump was gradually forming in her dry throat, and she swallowed hard over and over again, trying to strangle the pain that fulgurated her body. It was a kind of unfamiliar pain – a pain of disappointment and humiliation caused by the man whom she claimed to love until her dying day.

The truth was that Scarlett's heart was overwhelmed with rage at Ashley and his helplessness. She didn't expect that when she came to him for help and action, he would just talk about the things she didn't care for. She didn't give a damn about his poetry and dreams. All what she needed was advice where to get money to pay taxes for Tara. She wanted somebody to help her and instinctively came to her beloved Ashley, but he couldn't help. She tried to justify his helplessness by the fact that the old South was dead and Ashley needed time to adapt to it. But even it was so, why did he talk about what happens when civilization breaks and about what will happen with everybody in the South? Why did he think about such stupid things?

Most importantly, how could Ashley reject Scarlett's heart when she gave to him her love on the silver tray? Hot anger and rampage at Ashley surged through her body and dissolved in her bloodstream. She felt humiliated because he rejected her proposal to run away on the back of foolish honor and Melanie. Yes, because of Melanie, this plain stupid creature, as Scarlett mused. She was fed up with Ashley's constant care for honor and Melanie. A bittersweet feeling of humiliation, rejection, and wounded ego didn't leave Scarlett, who thought that she was the most beautiful and the most charming lady in three Countries. In her selfishness and self-absorption, she didn't understand how such a woman may be rejected. How could Ashley reject her? She didn't understand it, and she was furious. She cannot accept his rejection.

The more time has passed since she left Ashley with the axe in his hands, the more anger and feeling of abjection were substituted for the thought about Tara. Tara… Tara was her home and everything for her. It was everything that she had now in her new miserable life. It was her childhood - her mother and father, Mammy, her sisters, and all the good that was now somewhere behind. No, she couldn't lose Tara. But where will she get money? Of course, Ashley with his stupid talk couldn't help her!

Scarlett approached the white house and opened the front door that creaked to loud that Scarlett screamed. She was tired, both physically and emotionally, and wanted to scream, scream, and scream over and over again. She didn't care at whom and why to scream.

"Mammy, why is this door creaking so loudly?" Scarlett cried out in outbreak. "Mammy, please do something! Right now, Mammy!" she exploded. The she rushed to her study room.

She approached the table and opened one of the chests of drawers where she managed to conceal the bottle of whiskey, the only one left at Tara amid their current starvation and impoverishment. She frantically opened the bottle and took a large gulp from its neck. Feeling how the warm liquid was running down her throat and filled her stomach, she raised her head proudly, and tears began to form in the corners of her emerald cat-like eyes. She made one larger gulp from the bottle and rose to her feet.

She approached a small wooden table with glasses, took a glass, and poured brandy. Scarlett swallowed hard and emptied the glass in one gulp. She chocked with some of the burning liquid and spilled it down her neck and bosom, but she didn't care. She poured and tossed another glass to her throat, and the glow of the brandy crept gradually over her, giving a false sensation of strength, security, and warmth.

Scarlett settled in the chair and put her head in her hands. She was a little drunk as the amount of brandy she consumed was enough to quickly hit her morbidly thin, attenuated, nearly desiccated body. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her back, gently stroking her in order to console. Scarlett raised her head and saw her Mammy. Then Mammy hugged her about her shoulders. Scarlett quickly responded to this embrace and clung to Mammy's chest, crying even louder with hot tears freely streaming down her pale-white face. Mammy was always with her, but she couldn't release her from her burden. She was crying at the top of her voice, crying from humiliation and rejection, crying from the dead end as she couldn't imagine how to get money to pay taxes for Tara. She was crying because of the lost years of her youth and happiness, which were left somewhere behind. She was so tired due to tremendous burdens she had to bear. And there was no relief in conversation with Ashley. Now, in her despair in front of the threat to lose Tara, she didn't feel even a shadow of the previous excitement from talking to Ashley and seeing him.

"My lamb, what happened with you?" Mammy asked in a low, caressing voice.

"Oh, Mammy!" Scarlett whispered. "Oh, Mammy!"

Mammy came to her and embraced her about her shoulders. "How can I help you, my lamb?"

"I am so tired," Scarlett murmured. She shut her eyes. "I am tired of working as a slave."

Mammy fumbled at her chin, trying to turn her face upward, her dark own face furrowed with pity. "Miss Scarlett, I know how hard you have worked at Tara. Miss Ellen would be proud of you."

Mammy hugged her more tightly. As she looked at the desk, her black eyes stopped at a half empty bottle of brandy. Mammy's heart sank with pain. She realized she mustn't scold Scarlett now, especially given her mistress's general emotional fragility and existing burdens.

Scarlett was sobbing. She swallowed her sobs forming in her low throat and then swallowed again. "Mammy, the Yankees want to take Tara from us. I don't have money to pay taxes."

"What do you mean, Miss Scarlett?"

"Will told me that the Yankees raised taxes on Tara. We have to pay three hundred dollars soon," Scarlett said and raised her head, her eyes watery from salt teas of despair.

"Three hundred dollars is so much money. We don't have it," Mammy said in a low and silky voice.

"We cannot lose Tara. It is my home, Mammy," Scarlett nearly screamed and clenched her jaw. There was such a note of wild determination and hatred in her voice that Mammy was taken aback. Never before has she seen Scarlett's green eyes so full of venom and bitterness.

"My lamb, but what will we do?"

"Mammy, you better ask Ashley," Scarlett disentangled from Mammy and took the bottle in her hands. She took another gulp from the bottle.

"Mister Ashley… What did he do?" Mammy asked in bewilderment. Then she raised her voice: "Miss Scarlett, don't drink!"

"I came to Ashley to ask him where to find money, but he… he…" she stumbled with words.

Mammy shook her head in helplessness and confusion. "Mister Ashley doesn't have money."

Scarlett needed relief because she came to the point where her load became unbearable and she had no hope to save Tara. She was in complete despair. "I want to escape, Mammy! I want to escape!"

"Hush now, my lamb." Mammy pressed her head to her chest. "Miss Scarlett, listen to me. Sometimes answers flow without words, through touch. You must rest now. You need rest."

"I am so tired. I am so tired," Scarlett complained, pouring out her burdens to Mammy. "I want to escape! I cannot be here anymore! I am not a slave!"

Mammy shrugged. "Do you want to run away? Do you want to leave us, my lamb?"

"Ashley humiliated me! I hate him! I hate him!" she cried out waspishly. Even Mammy felt that poignant venom of her despair in her voice.

Mammy tried to redirect her to the exit door, but Scarlett stepped back from her. "Miss Scarlett, please let me help you to go upstairs. We should go."

"Mammy, I drank some brandy because there is more than enough I have to do now." Biting down on her sudden retort, Scarlett paused and regarded Mammy's glaring displeasure. A small frown furrowed her brows and her forehead. "Mammy, I needed a drink."

Mammy's voice was sodden with sorrow. "My poor lamb…" She sadly shook her dark head.

"Mammy, I am not drunk. I just needed to relax. I don't need to go upstairs." Scarlett's face screwed up.

"Miss Scarlett, I understand."

"I am so glad to hear it," Scarlett whispered, "that at least somebody understands me!"

Mammy ran her hand down her mistress's jet-black hair. "Miss Ellen would disapprove of you if she knew that you were drinking brandy," Mammy said with authority.

"Mammy, my mother is dead. I loved her so much, but I hate that I am the head of the household now. And I decide whether I should drink or not," Scarlett objected imperatively, fatigue from drinking and physical exhaustion creeping into her voice. She felt some dizziness and nausea. It was an affect of brandy she drank. "How could Ashley leave me alone with the fear of losing Tara?"

"What did he do wrong? Tell me, my lamb."

A tremor went through Scarlett's shoulders. She squeezed her pale green eyes shut. "Oh, Mammy! I hate Ashley! How I hate him…" Her voice quivered to a halt.

"You know that I am a tomb and will never say somebody what you don't want me to say. I will always help you."

"Mammy, I asked Ashley for advice where to find money to pay taxes, but he said that we, Southerners, thought that we were gods. He was talking about the life before the war and mentioned something about the life in shadows, civilizations. Oh, Mammy! He is such a fool! I don't care for civilizations or shadows! I care for what will happen with Tara! I care for us and for today!" Scarlett laughed bitterly, and a new wave of tears overcame her body.

"Miss Scarlett, Mister Ashley is very different from you. You know that the Wilkes family almost lives in the library," Mammy explained.

Scarlett averted her swollen eyes. "Mammy, Ashley behaves foolishly, and this fool humiliated me! I hate him! His shadows won't bring money to us, but rather will accelerate my death."

"Miss Scarlett, Mister Ashley is not a fool. You are different and you don't understand each other. Don't judge Mister Ashley. Maybe, now you will stop chasing after him…" Mammy said and put her large hand on her mouth as she recognized that she said too much. She anticipated anger from Scarlett.

"I am not chasing after this fool! He humiliated me, and you know, Mammy, that I hate when I am humiliated. I am Scarlett O'Hara," Scarlett nearly screamed at her, not looking at her. She swallowed another sob in her throat.

Mammy clapped her hands in horror. "Miss Scarlett, please speak quieter. We must be careful. Miss Melanie was in the living room."

"I don't care for them! They are additional burden for me now. Ashley and his family live on my money, and he dares to humiliate me! I hate him!" Scarlett countered.

Indeed, they were a burden for her. Additional mouths, and there was almost no practical use in them, as she mused. But it was her Ashley whom she loved. If he loved her, why didn't he run away with her? Why were he and his family such a huge burden for her? Her practical brain didn't see any use in such love, but she cannot explain the feeling she had to him. Currently, she had only a shallow reasoning.

She didn't think about what she was saying, and the words were flowing from her mouth automatically. Probably, she was too tired to think, and she didn't know why she said that she hated him. Probably, it was her pain and fear to lose Tara and to be thrown directly to the streets with the whole family. She felt heartbreak because of his rejection and helplessness when she needed help. He failed her, and she was disappointed. Scarlett said what the first came to her mind, and she didn't have a deep though on it. Everything was on the surface and clear, as she thought – Ashley rejected her, Scarlett O'Hara, the belle of three counties, who saved him, his wife, and his son. Yes, he rejected and humiliated her. That was the only thing that she knew.

"Miss Melanie loves you so much, Miss Scarlett. Don't say such terrible things," Mammy scolded.

"Mammy, Ashley asked me to take care of Melanie during the war, and I did it. I helped her give birth to Beau. Yes, it was me, not this thickheaded Prissy who pretended to be nearly midwife, but in fact lied. Ashley came here to us, after the war, under our roof. And we accepted him," Scarlett said.

"Miss Scarlett, you are very strong. What you have done for them is too much for a lady of your age."

Scarlett swallowed hard, her tears almost dried. "So, when I came to Ashley for advice… What did he do? He is a fool! I never will be humiliated by the people who are my burden."

"How did he humiliate you, my lamb?"

"Mammy… he… It doesn't matter…" Scarlett cut herself off sharply. She stepped forward to Mammy. She embraced Mammy and forced a faint smile on her face. She said simply: "It will be fine, Mammy. I am sorry for my tears. It will be fine, I promise."

"My lamb, I understand. My poor lamb…" Mammy returned a kind smile.

Scarlett went outside the house. It was almost dark. She was standing on the front steps and was sweeping her eyes over rough winter fields. The weather was cold, and in the night a killing frost overcame Georgia. The rutted red roads were frozen, and the cold winds were blowing through this emptiness and darkness outside. In the twilight of the winter afternoon, on the front steps of previously thriving cotton plantation, Scarlett's heart collapsed as she recalled that before the war she was a spoiled, selfish and untried girl. She had everything in abundance, she was full of youth and emotions, hopes and joy, and she had her love for Ashley. Now there was only hard labor, starvation, the sprawling white house on the plantation, fear, despair, and terrors of war. She didn't think about the roots of what happened with Georgia like Ashley did, but she knew that there was just too much burden for her. Little by little, layer by layer, burdens have overloaded her and have strengthened during the endless months. She lost the count of these months.

"How could Ashley be only a burden if he loves me? How foolish can he be if he talks about shadows when we are starving and need money to survive and save Tara? He is talking foolishly about honor and old days when I desperately need money," Scarlett thought.

Scarlett lived with the hope that Ashley's return from the war would bring back some meaning and clarity into life. Now this hope was gone. Ashley failed Scarlett's trust and love. She felt that he betrayed her and their love. And she was worse than imprisoned and dead because Ashley's rejection and her indignity because of him, as she perceived it, hit her stronger than even actual starvation and her night dream of hunger could frighten her. She lost his love and possibility to be happy as he betrayed her. Of course, Scarlett didn't understand Ashley's reasoning and couldn't understand what the honor and fear of reality meant for him. She was so different from him, but she didn't even care to think about it. Her practical brain saw only facts – humiliation of rejection and betrayal of her love for him, as well as a burden with no practical use.

"Where can I find money? How awful it is!" she paused in her thoughts as her brain was working. "What should I do? Why I feel only flagrant chagrin after Ashley's rejection?" Scarlett mused.

Tiredness was overcoming Scarlett, and a thought of going back inside the house and drinking some more brandy before the night popped into her head. She had nothing to lose, apart from Tara, and her mind was sick and tired. She was on her way back to the house, but suddenly she stopped and turned around as one name emerged in her memory. She looked on the fields and the road for the last time, then turned around and went into the house.

* * *

_This is a "what if" story beginning from Scarlett and Ashley's conversation in the orchard. This won't be a long story. I plan to have around 8-10 chapters._

_This chapter is about Ashley's thoughts and feelings after Scarlett proposed him to escape together to Mexico as she knew that officers in the Mexican Army were needed. Such a conversation took place at Tara when Ashley came back home after the war. _

_The chapter is also about Scarlett's thoughts and her reaction to Ashley's rejection._

_I am sorry but I won't specially depict Mammy's language._

_Reviews are appreciated. Thank you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Scarlett's decision to go to Atlanta and argument with Mammy**

"Rhett," a name emerged in Scarlett's mind. "Rhett Butler has money. He has much money. I must find him. He won't talk about shadows like this fool Ashley. Rhett…" Scarlett mused. "And Will said that the Old Guard of Atlanta had seen Rhett Butler there with pockets that were full of money. Rhett seems to be prospering. I must find him. I will find him."

Scarlett felt some relief as she remembered about Rhett. At first, her heart missed one heartbeat and began pounding harder and harder. As she was becoming more and more assured that she would find Rhett and he would help her, composure and relief embraced her body and her soul. Her heart started beating steadily as appeasement overcame her. With these thoughts about Rhett, Scarlett drifted to peaceful sleep. That night she wasn't tossing in her bed – the night wasn't sleepless. Brandy she drank several hours helped her to relax and approximated the moment fatigue had completely overcame her.

Next morning Scarlett awoke in an unusual, uncustomary way. It wasn't a familiar nightmare about the fog, which roused her, but a memory of somebody's voice – a flat, dispassionate voice that sounded in her ears. As she awoke, she didn't realize at first whose voice it was. She opened her green eyes in confusion and blinked. She swept the room with her eyes, catching every detail, finding nothing awry or strange. She was alone in the room. Scarlett again blinked in confusion and amusement. As she stretched her body across old satin white sheets and shut her eyes for an instance, the memory of the voice returned. Now her mind seemed suspiciously bright. It was Rhett Butler's voice. Scarlett didn't understand what that arrogant mocking devil had told her when she was sleeping, but her emerald eyes immediately flung open upon her enlightenment. Her face was flushing as she realized how uncommon, even extraordinary she awoke. Never before had she been awoken from hearing Rhett Butler's voice in her ears. What was going on in her head? Was she going mad? Or was she just imagining it? Why it was so that today in the morning Rhett's voice assaulted her brain and made her feeling as though it had sent some shivers up and down her spine?

There couldn't be any mistake as Scarlett heard Rhett's oddly pleasant to the ear, well-modulated voice, sonorous and overlaid with the flat slow drawl of the Charlestonian. Sometimes, this voice sounded as a flat low baritone, which usually happened in civil conversations when he didn't insult her and didn't throw nasty barbs in her face. However, as Rhett Butler began to mock and insult Scarlett, his voice turned more resonate and melodic as it rose to a higher octave. Finally, it became closer to tenor, or more accurately speaking something between lyric tenor and baritone-noble. She was sure that a steady baritone had recently sounded in her ears. May it mean that Rhett will be civil if she finds him in Atlanta? Was her strange awakening a sort of presentiment to a pleasant, successful meeting with Rhett Butler? Probably, it was so. Probably, it was not. But she didn't dare to think about it now.

She remembered how Rhett Butler usually behaved: he acted as an insolent, ignorant, arrogant conqueror and as an indifferent, passionless, mocking devil. He always laughed when others didn't know what to say or to do and when they simply kept silent. He always insulted and threw his prickly florid verbiages in others' faces while his companions, both male and female, were trembling from terrible embarrassment and indignation. He always won when others were confused and when they lost in the whole game or battle. It was Rhett whom Scarlett knew. And the voice of that man was reproduced by her mind and was screaming in her ears today. How strange and uncommon it was, she mused.

As Scarlett remembered about Rhett yesterday after the conversation with Ashley in the orchard and especially then later will said to her that Rhett Butler had been seen in Atlanta several days ago with half pockets of money and on a new horse, she made up a decision to go to Atlanta almost immediately. Now when she was awoken by his low, flat baritone in which he usually had a civil conversation or at least more or less civil, Scarlett felt more confident. Her mood improved. Now she was singing under her breath.

Scarlett called for Mammy in a sonorous, loud voice. In a couple of minutes she heard somebody's grumbling and murmuring outside her room. It was her old Mammy. Scarlett asked Mammy about the bath. In response she heard the old woman's scolding that it was not time for her bath now because she had got up rather late. Mammy said that it was nearly nine in the morning, while Scarlett had always got up at around seven in the morning in the past several years as she had to start her household work right from the early hours. It appeared that now Scarlett had to go downstairs to have breakfast with whole family. Mammy commanded that her mistress had no more than twenty five minutes for dressing. However, as Scarlett's frame of mind was good, she wasn't going to spoil it. She decided that today she would have what she wanted, even if she had wanted to have her bath in the inappropriate from Mammy's point of view time.

Scarlett smiled at Mammy, her eyelashes demurely fluttering up and down. She said that she wanted a bath in a steady, sweet voice, but there was a ringing of finality in her voice. Mammy sighed and growled something under her breath and then unwillingly obeyed. Soon Scarlett was laying in the bath and enjoyed how water trickled over her too thin, raw-boned shoulders. She silently cursed cruel fate that she was so thin, but she knew that she could do nothing about it. At least today she managed to sleep several hours more than she used to. Even Mammy even didn't wake her up. Probably, the old woman saw that yesterday Scarlett was near her breaking point and hence needed more time to rest.

As Scarlett was done with her bath, Mammy helped her to dress in her old, out-of-fashion, unshaped, outworn dress. Scarlett was happy that at least her only left corset wasn't worn to rags. Now, when she was extremely thin and her breasts were not as full as they were before the war and starvation at Tara, having a good corset with intact laces, not eaten by moth, was very important to make her look better. At the sight of the dress, Scarlett cursed aloud several times as depression and disgust flooded her heart. Mammy began to rebuke her mistress. She pointed out that nobody, except for the Yankees, had excellent clothes now. Scarlett snapped that she didn't care for others, but cared only for them. It was a familiar scene between Mammy and Scarlett.

As Scarlett went downstairs, everybody was waiting for her at the dinner table. It seemed as though she was the last member of the household to get up today. Melanie and Carreen warmly greeted Scarlett. Suellen pretended she didn't notice how Scarlett walked into the room, her chin proudly up, her green eyes brazing. Ashley was withdrawn. As normal, Gerald O'Hara started talking about his wife Ellen. Everything seemed to be as usual. At last they began to take their seats at the breakfast table.

Scarlett noticed that Ashley had cast at her a couple of watchful, scrutinizing glances, but she ignored him. As they were taking their seats at the breakfast table, Scarlett had to face another problem. After her mother's death, she was always sitting at the head of the table right in front of her father Gerald whose place was on the opposite side of the table. As she took her place, an unexpected precedent happened: Ashley came to her place and sank in the chair near her. It looked rather off-the-wall even for Melanie Wilkes, and she gave to Ashley an ambiguous look of confusion and shamefacedness. Scarlett was disgruntled at Ashley's behavior and in a response demonstrably leapt to her feat in order to change her seat. Everybody noticed it, but nobody dared to speak. During the breakfast each time Ashley's grey eyes met Scarlett's green, Scarlett found any possible pretext not to talk to him and not to look at him.

Scarlett was irritated with Ashley's aspiration for proximity to her. She was still angry at Ashley after their engrossing conversation in the orchard when he turned her down with her proposal to run away from Georgia and the United States to Mexico and become one of officers in the Mexican Army. Most importantly, she was angry that he was talking about these foolish things which she didn't understand and even didn't try to comprehend. She couldn't realize why he was so helpless and, frankly speaking, even didn't try. Every time Scarlett remembered that conversation with Ashley, she felt disgust and anger at both Ashley and herself.

During the breakfast Scarlett decided to find a moment and declare that she was going to leave Tara. Scarlett gave to Suellen, Mammy and Ashley strict orders what they had to do in the upcoming days. As she was speaking, Ashley, Melanie, Suellen, and even Mammy who was bringing the plates, were staring at her. She felt uneasy under their glances. As she was done with instructions, she announced that she was going to Atlanta for several days. She also underscored that she may be absent for indefinite time. The general answer to her announcement about her trip was a tense, audible silence. Even her father, who previously talked about his wife Ellen as though she had been alive, was keeping silent and glanced at her with unclear, fathomless gaze. Everybody stared at Scarlett with a silent, ambiguous question why she was going to travel to Atlanta. Outstripping any questions, Scarlett said that she had to go there in order to agree with the relevant people about the loan to pay taxes on Tara or even to mortgage Tara if necessary. An answer was again a startled silence. Irritated by that silence seven more, Scarlett finally rose to her feet and went upstairs to her room.

Scarlett was angry. She was very angry. She didn't understand how everybody dared to look at her with round, nonplussed eyes. How dare they give to her such strange glances? They didn't have money and couldn't pay the taxes, so that the only thing they had to do was to follow her instructions and not to interfere, she mused. It was a pity that they hadn't understood the real situation and all their misery. Ignoring their incomprehension and bewilderment, probably accompanied with taciturn suspicion and accusation, was the best way out of the situation. Now it was time for Scarlett to set her fancies to one side and give herself over to seriousness and concentration on another theme.

Scarlett paced about her bedchamber. She flung the old hardwired, shot-colored curtains across the dark dirty window and thumped the bed pillows in an effort to vent her frustration. She sighed and shut her eyes for an instance to regain her composure. Then she approached the old monogamy bureau and opened one of the drawers. She took the old, moth-eaten black velvet purse and extracted several notes and some coins. She counted the coins and piled them separately from the notes. It appeared that in total she had only twenty five dollars, too little to pay taxes and buy supplies for Tara and new clothes for the onrushing spring. The only thing left was to have a loan from that incorrigible dashing dandy, a renegade and an outcast of the respectable society - Rhett Butler.

If Rhett doesn't want to give her a loan, then she will have to become his mistress, Scarlett mused. As Rhett wasn't a marrying man and was known to be enjoying his flamboyant life of a free bachelor, Scarlett thought that he was likely to offer her to become only his mistress for a season or so. She considered it unlikely that Rhett would give up his life of a free bachelor and a womanizer and a haunter of whorehouses only for the sake of her hungry eyes and morbidly thin shoulders. Rhett didn't propose to marry her when she was at the top of her beauty, and now he was even more likely to act so. Besides, Scarlett thought that even a thought that such an indecent man could propose to somebody, including herself, was extremely incredible. It seemed to be his life-long rule not to marry, and Rhett was unlikely to breach that rule. Yet, as Scarlett fantasized that Rhett could propose and she can become Mrs Rhett Butler, her heart began to pound wildly and she felt how extraordinary aeriality and outlandish comfort captured her heart and soul. If she imagined, she would be his mistress, she felt torn with her own helplessness and feeling of being cornered. Yet, even in that highly undesirable, obscene, shameless outcome, she felt a strange fluttering inside her chest as her heart was now hammering harder and harder at the thoughts of Rhett. It was unfamiliar and strange for her.

Scarlett considered the variant that she could have asked her grandfather Pierre Robillard to give her money and save her starving family. However, it didn't seem to be a way out of the situation. Pierre Robillard hated her mother because he had never been happy with her choice of the husband. Pierre ceased all communication with Ellen after she had got married to Gerald O'Hara, whom her grandfather Pierre had insulted and had humiliated verbally in front of Scarlett. It happened several years when Ellen Robillard O'Hara took her daughters to Charleston to visit her sisters Eulalie and Pauline. During that short visit, Pierre Robillard unexpectedly came to Charleston from Savannah to his daughters' house. When Pierre met Ellen there, an unbelievable scandal occurred as Scarlett's grandfather remembered the entire story how his lovely Ellen got married to Gerald O'Hara. Pierre called Gerald "an Irish immigrant with a shady past and peasant origin" and "a miserable peasant." Ellen was named "a good-for-nothing daughter" and "a betrayer of her father and her origin."

Scarlett remembered that scandal very well, and she wasn't going to ask Pierre for something. Her grandfather was more than likely to have a laugh of his life at her and pull her out of the house. Scarlett was sure that Pierre would turn her starving family adrift. Given that Scarlett was also helping financially her aunts Eulalie and Pauline, it was likely that they had had a quarrel with Pierre and he had stopped supporting them. What a monster Pierre Robillard was, Scarlett mused. She couldn't understand how a man could be so cruel to his own family and forget his own daughters and granddaughters. No, Scarlett will never come to the grand pink house owned by the beast who was only her grandfather in name. She will never come to Savannah to beg for money. Scarlett knew she would get little out of her Pierre Robillard, so she had no intention of wasting her time in that direction. Rhett Butler was her only opportunity to find money, the last resort, and she will use it, even if she had to become his mistress as Rhett once offered her during one of his visits at Pittypat Hamilton's house.

Scarlett's inward musings were interrupted as she felt somebody's heavy breathing behind her. She turned around, and her green eyes locked with Mammy's black. Mammy even didn't knock at the door. Scarlett knew that Mammy had come because she had questions about her announcement of her trip to Atlanta. If it was so, she was ready to tell her about her plans. She won't hide it from Mammy.

"Miss Scarlett," Mammy began. "What is going on? Where are you going, Miss Scarlett? Why are you going to leave alone?"

Scarlett turned her head to Mammy. "Oh, Mammy," she breathed.

Mammy glanced uncertainly at Scarlett and saw her lower an eyelid in a deliberate wink. "Miss Scarlett, you are better to tell me the truth," Mammy warned. "What are you up to? Where are you going to find so much money?"

"I am going to Atlanta to negotiate the conditions of a loan," Scarlett explained.

"You cannot go alone, Miss Scarlett," Mammy scolded. "It is not proper for a lady."

"Very well then," Scarlett replied calmly. She knew that Mammy would insist on accompanying her. There was no use to make a scandal about the issue. "You can go with me, but it is better if you won't interfere in what I am going to do."

"What is it, Miss Scarlett?"

Scarlett tossed her jet-black curls and gave Mammy the back of her head. Then she started speaking. "I am going to talk to a man about a loan. Only this man can help us to pay taxes. You won't like that man."

"Who is he?" Mammy questioned suspiciously.

Scarlett turned to Mammy and stared at her. Her eyes turned dark green. "Rhett Butler," she said briefly, in one breath.

Mammy's eyes grew wide. Her breathing accelerated. "That black sheep from Charleston? Is he Miss Eleanor Butler and Mister Langston Butler's son?"

"I trust so," a monosyllabic answer followed.

Mammy looked scandalized and shocked. "Miss Scarlett, you cannot even meet that terrible man! It is not proper! He is a black sheep in Charleston. Even his family doesn't talk to him if they meet him somewhere on the street. He is received nowhere in respectable families."

"Ha!" Scarlett thundered, her emerald eyes sparkling. She felt anger well up inside her and boil over. Now, when she was overwhelmed with despair to find Rhett and get money to save them, she wasn't going to tolerate that somebody insisted on such stupid things as decency and respectability. "I will do whatever I have to do to save us. I will go to Atlanta and find Rhett Butler. I must meet Rhett Butler and I will do it. And I don't care whatever it is proper or not to talk to him!"

"Miss Scarlett, your mother Miss Ellen would never approve of it! It is not proper even to talk to such people as Rhett Butler is," Mammy sermonized. She raised her voice. "That man was expelled from West Point many years ago. He also disgraced a young lady in the buggy ride in Charleston. Everybody knows these facts. You cannot ask him for even a loan."

"Mammy, enough!" Scarlett replied bluntly. She swept the room with unseeing eyes. "I don't care what Rhett committed in his early youth. He has money, and this is the most important."

Scarlett's temper was gradually simmering. She gnashed her teeth in both anger and frustration, her jaw clenched. Yesterday, it was Ashley Wilkes who made her temper boil due to his helplessness, futility, and in fact being no more than a burden for Scarlett. She was angry that he was always clinging to that damned honor and respectability of a Southern gentleman. No, Ashley's foolish talk about honor and decency in the orchard was more than enough: Scarlett won't allow Mammy to do the same Ashley did.

"I may be guilty of indecency, wrath and pride, to say nothing of self-righteousness, and even if the above is considered one of stupid sins, it ought to be so!" Scarlett cried out.

Mammy stepped forward and awkwardly sank into a chair near the bed. "My lamb, you cannot talk in this tone! You are a lady! You cannot allow yourself to talk so! You cannot…"

That was indeed enough. Scarlett raised her chin and cast a spleenful glance at Mammy. The green eyes flashed in terrible dark anger. She dug her fists into her hips. "God's nightgown, Mammy! And who will help us find money, Mammy? Maybe, it will be that damned dreamer Ashley Wilkes who cannot understand that the old South is gone? I had more than enough of his foolish blather about honor yesterday! I won't tolerate the same thing from you now! Maybe, my grandfather Pierre Robillard will give us money, especially given that it seems he hated my mother after she had got married to my father? Or maybe you, Mammy, will find money? Will you find money by yourself, Mammy? Who will give us money?"

As Scarlett finished, she realized that she had flung this tirade with a note of accusation in Mammy's face with angry passion, not caring about the consequences. But she cannot help herself. She wanted to say what she had said.

As heat leapt between them, Mammy sensed her anger. "Miss Scarlett…" Her voice quavered. She was at loss.

A ripple of compassion went across Scarlett's heart. "I am sorry, Mammy," she said smoothly. Her voice turned softer and calmer. "When you are in mortal danger, decency means nothing. You have to understand it. You see," she paused and sighed heavily, "nobody will help us."

Mammy looked away. "I see, my lamb," she muttered under her breath.

"Besides, the war deprived many people of all their fortune," Scarlett added thoughtfully. "Very few people have so much money now. Only damned Yankees and very few Southerners still have money."

Mammy screwed up her face. "Miss Scarlett, please watch your language."

Scarlett raised her green, burning eyes and stared at Mammy, as if seeing her for the first time. "Mammy, I am sorry, but I cannot behave otherwise now. There are too many reasons for frustration."

Scarlett was talking very slowly. Her voice was low as she responded to the absurdity, and she indeed considered any care for respectability and for decency to be irrelevant at that moment.

"I know, my lamb," Mammy said and paused. She was thinking about something.

Taking a deep breath, Scarlett was so tempted to curse at her poverty and at cruel fate at that moment. Her pale green eyes fixed on Mammy's face that turned thoughtful. "Mammy, what are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Miss Scarlett, maybe it will be better if you try to talk to your grandfather Pierre Robillard," Mammy recommended.

"Never! Never! Never!" Scarlett exploded again. Her breath sang out in a sigh. "I will never do this! I will never ask for money the monster who didn't try to have a civil conversation with his daughter after she had got married to my father! Don't you remember that case in Charleston when Pierre Robillard humiliated my mother and my father? It was more than enough for me." She paused and sighed. "More than enough," she repeated.

Mammy nodded solemnly. "I remember it."

Scarlett raised her chin. "Then you understand that Pierre Robillard won't give us money. He will only scoff at us. I am not going to give him this pleasure."

Mammy sighed heavily. "It is true that Mister Pierre never liked your father."

Scarlett looked at the old woman and contradicted her in a flat tone. "It is no use to come to him."

Silence hung over them. All that broke the silence was Mammy's labored breathing. Finally, the old woman's voice resonated. "My lamb, are you sure that Rhett Butler will give you a loan?"

"I am sure. If it is necessary, I will give a mortgage on Tara to Rhett Butler," Scarlett replied in a steady voice. She wasn't sure that Rhett would do it, but she had to assure the old woman. She tried to make her voice sound convincing. "You can accompany me in my trip to Atlanta, Mammy."

"Miss Scarlett, I will be with you. And please don't object," Mammy warned.

"I am not objecting, Mammy," Scarlett said in a low voice. She turned away from the old woman, hiding her tears that began to dry. "You will go with me. We will be staying at Aunt Pittypat's house."

"When do you plan to leave for Atlanta, Miss Scarlett?"

Her answer was immediate. "Soon. Very soon. Be ready, Mammy. We have no time to wait."

As she said that, Scarlett approached the large-framed mirror in the corner of the room. As she saw her reflection in the mirror, she was ready to scream in discomfiture and disgust. She was so pale, so thin, so morbidly looking. Looking at her, Mammy only shrugged as she could do nothing to help her lamb. Scarlett looked as a ghost of a ghost, a shadow of that happy, carefree young girl she used to be before the civil war with the Yankees.

Suddenly Scarlett murmured something unclear to herself as an excruciating thought popped into her head. She realized that she didn't have even a single good-looking dress, old and out-of-fashion dress, but even more or less suitable, not a raggedy dress. Now she didn't know what to wear when she will find Rhett Butler. She couldn't face Rhett wearing the dress she was wearing now. She couldn't meet him with hungry cat eyes and in ignominious, obsolete dress. She will never let it happen - her self-esteem will never allow it. If he didn't propose to her at the height of her beauty, when she had her prettiest clothes and happy green eyes, how could she expect to make him interested in herself now when she was ugly and dressed tackily? What will she do now?

As Scarlett realized she had nothing to wear, she felt as helpless as a newborn child abandoned by his or her parents. All weariness dropped away as the true meaning behind the real problem of absence of normal clothes began to sink in Scarlett's mind. She knew she must compose herself. She moved to the washstand, poured water from the jug, and bathed her eyes. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to breathe calmly. She felt that if she didn't get some air inside her, she would suffocate. After a few minutes she was able to take some shallow breaths. Mammy was keeping silent.

With all her heart Scarlett wanted to say what bothered and frightened her, but again it was impossible for her to speak. As she moved toward the bed, Mammy saw that her hands trembled and her eyes were blinded by tears.

Mammy approached her mistress. "What is it, Miss Scarlett? What is wrong?" she demanded.

Scarlett's legs turned to water and she sank down on the bed. Mammy quickly concealed his left hand beneath the covers and reached for her with the other one. This defensive gesture of her old nanny, so loyal and so loving, undid Scarlett. The floodgates opened, and she began to sob. Mammy's fingers splayed into Scarlett's raven hair, and she pressed her head to her chest.

"Hush now, hush, my lamb." Mammy's lips touched her forehead gently. "Whatever it is, I will try to make it better," she crooned. But her words only made things worse.

Scarlett lifted her head and swallowed hard. "Mammy, I have nothing to wear. I don't know what to do."

Mammy pressed her to her chest. "All our clothes are not like we used to have before the war."

Scarlett's green eyes again flooded and spilled over, dropping wetness on Mammy. "What shall I do now? I cannot meet Rhett wearing rags! I just cannot!"

Mammy gave a nod. "My lamb, I understand," she said softly.

Mammy cuddled her mistress until she cried herself out. Scarlett had never felt so safe and secure. Mammy's loving embrace eased her pain and frustration. She felt like being in her private, warm cocoon with Mammy. This was what she wanted for the rest of her life. But it couldn't last forever. As her sobs subsided, she began to think what to do next.

Suddenly Scarlett pulled back. "I know what to do." Her eyes revealed alleviation and determination.

As Scarlett's mind drifted to her mother's moss-green velvet curtains in the parlor, she leapt to her feet and stormed out of the room, loudly slamming the door behind herself. A minute later she was in the parlor. In another minute, she was dragging a heavy marble-topped table across the floor. Scarlett rolled the table under the window, gathered up her skirts, and climbed on it. She tiptoed to reach the heavy curtain pole. Then she plucked the curtains and jumped to the floor.

Mammy followed her mistress to the parlor. As she opened the door and her wide black face appeared, Scarlett gave to her a glance of excitement and triumph. She no longer looked as distressed as she used to when she was sobbing on Mammy's chest in her room upstairs.

"What you up to do with Miss Ellen's velvet curtains?" Mammy demanded. "She liked them dearly."

"Now it is my curtains," Scarlett answered. "I am going to have a new done from them. Mammy, please go up to the attic and get my box of dress patterns. We have a lot of work in the coming days."

"Miss Scarlett, you cannot do it! I will never allow it!" Mammy exclaimed with smoldering eyes.

"Mammy, do it or I will do it by myself," Scarlett threatened. Her voice sounded rude. "I have no other way out to have a new drew. So we will sew the dress down from the curtains."

Mammy knew that it was now useless to contradict Scarlett. The old woman looked at Scarlett piercingly, just as she had done when Scarlett was small and had tried unsuccessfully to palm off feasible excuses for misdeeds and shortcomings from a disobedient child. Scarlett smiled at her with a sweet, blandishing smile, so that Mammy sent to her mistress another disapproving look and submissively went to the attic.

* * *

_Hello, my dear readers! It has been eternity since I updated this story, and I am sorry for this. I simply forgot about this story._

_Finally, I am updating now._

_I joined chapters 1 and 2 from the initial variant of the story. On the example of my first fiction – "Scarlett and Rhett: per aspera ad astra," I realized that I like long chapters and don't understand and appreciate short. Thus, this chapter will be chapter 2 now instead of three as it was supposed to be a long time ago._

_I hope you will like this chapter._

_As always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Scarlett in a prison of contradictions during the preparation for the trip to Atlanta**

Throughout the next several days, Mammy and Scarlett spent the whole time in Scarlett's bedroom when they were trying on the dress and were sewing it. They usually left the room only for a short time to have a dinner downstairs as Scarlett instructed Mammy to have a quick breakfast or a lunch only in her own room in order to save time for their work. The household deals were fully on Suellen, Ashley, and Melanie's shoulders. Everybody knew that Scarlett and Mammy were sewing a dress. Neither of them disturbed them in their blessed solitude, probably, because they didn't want to experience Scarlett's rage or because they understood that Scarlett was the only person who could have saved all of them. As time was passing and the deadline to pay taxes was approaching, Scarlett and Mammy didn't have time and had to devote all the time to sewing her dress.

When Scarlett and Mammy went downstairs and attended the dinner, Scarlett realized that the overall tense atmosphere had somehow changed. The household members no longer glanced at her uncertainly and strangely. Probably, it was because they felt heartwarming, pleasurable excitement which seemed to emanate from Scarlett. Indeed, Scarlett looked calmer, more composed, and even happier. In addition, now there was a bright hard glitter in her pale green eyes and she also laughed a good deal. Her laughter pleased each member of the household and eased the strained environment that had become so common for all of them. Indeed, it had been months since everybody had heard Scarlett's sincere, melodic laugh.

There was a ghost of a smile on Mammy's black face, which was probably even a smile of pleasure and a smile of respect to her mistress. The paradox was the even Scarlett's father Gerald, who wasn't himself since his wife Ellen's death, felt that general excitement in the house: his blue eyes were less vague than usual as they followed Scarlett and he patted her approvingly when she was close to him. Carreen and even Suellen looked excited, and they both offered their help to Mammy and Scarlett. As a result, in several days after the beginning of that hard work with the dress Carreen and Suellen began to spend several hours per day with Mammy and Scarlett, and they ripped and cut and basted as if making a ball dress for themselves. As they were preparing Scarlett's attire for her trip, Suellen was unexpectedly very generous and produced her Irish-lace collar, a little worn but still rather pretty, while Carreen insisted that Scarlett would wear her slippers to Atlanta, for they were in a much better condition than any other slippers at Tara. Being involved in running the household, Melanie still managed to find some time to help produce a green velvet bonnet for Scarlett. It was Melly who offered to use the tail feathers of a rooster in order to embellish the bonnet, and Scarlett loved that idea.

There was a tension between Scarlett and Ashley, and they were lucky that only they knew about it, as well as another person - Mammy. Mammy knew about Scarlett's anger at Ashley, and she silently prayed that her lamb had overcome her childish infatuation with him. Mammy's desire to see Scarlett free of Ashley wasn't related exclusively to both indecency and impudence as Scarlett had been ready to throw herself in Ashley's embrace before. Indeed, it wasn't proper that Scarlett had lusted for the husband of Miss Melanie Wilkes who loved Scarlett dearly and who was always on her side. Mammy's hopes were of another nature. She hoped that her lamb would forget about Ashley because the old woman had always known that Ashley Wilkes would never make Scarlett happy. The old woman was sure that they had never been a good match because they simply didn't understand each other. It was so true especially about Scarlett who didn't understand Ashley as she was so different from that sentimental, lackadaisical Southern gentleman who lived as though in accordance with old an equestrian code of honor. And Mammy wanted her lamb to be happy, so that she silently hoped Scarlett had begun to perceive Ashley only as a childhood friend.

Since their captivating conversation in the orchard, Scarlett averted her gaze from Ashley each time he tried to catch her attention. The green eyes rarely met the grey orbs, and when their eyes locked, Ashley saw something new in them. It was not adoration or hatred. It was both anger and disappointment, a deadly combination, he mused. He knew that she was angry at him for his rejection and for what she perceived as her humiliation, but at first he didn't think that she was so disappointed. Over days, when they shortly saw each other at the dinner table, Ashley came to the conclusion that Scarlett was not only enraged, but also disappointed and disillusioned relative to him. Each time he thought about that, his heart contracted and skipped a beat. What he also remarked was that how she treated him was frightening. The suspicions he had in his mind were too terrible to be put into words, but he was keeping silent. Ashley decided that he didn't have the right to insult her by asking her if his suspicious were true. He didn't have any right to interfere, as he tried to convince himself. He told himself that he had not even a shadow of rights at all where Scarlett was disappointed or concerned. He knew that he couldn't have helped her. Nobody could have helped Scarlett, Ashley thought. And when he remembered Mammy, his heartache eased and twinges of conscience retreated as he became cheered that Mammy would take care of Scarlett whether Scarlett wished that or not.

Scarlett tried to avoid looking at Ashley. Many changes happened in her heart, but she didn't try to analyze them. Yet, each time when her green eyes met Ashley's grey at the dinner table, she no longer felt her heart jump in excitement as he glanced at her. On the contrary, she felt something like chagrin and reprobation, maybe even antagonism. Scarlett's anger at Ashley didn't cool: it rather grew hotter by each day passing because Ashley didn't make even a single attempt to understand what she was going to do in Atlanta and how she was going to find money. Her frustration was caused not only by both his helplessness and his talk about honor, but by his chronic unwillingness even to make an effort to understand what she planned. She hated his imbecility.

At that time, when she looked at Ashley, she was thinking more and more about Rhett Butler. She remembered their meetings in Atlanta during the war when Rhett called on her at Pittypat Hamilton's house. She remembered how he made his presents for her, especially the moment when, with overdone gallantry, he presented her a box of bonbons and later hairpins he had brought for her from Nassau. She recalled how Rhett gave a beautiful green bonnet to her, which he had bought for her in Paris. Her mind replayed how Rhett and she were dancing at that scandalous charity bazaar when she overstepped all acceptable boundaries and accepted his invitation for many waltzes she loved the most among all the dances. Each time Scarlett remembered that infamous blockade runner, she felt usually so amused by his bland impudence that she was ready simply to laugh and overlook his past misdeeds, if not for one circumstance – his abandonment of her, Melly and little Beau on the road near Rough and Ready after they had fled burning Atlanta. She still couldn't forgive Rhett. As she recalled that event and his idiotic patriotism when it was already clear that the war had been won by the Yankees, her heart swelled with anger at him.

In the meantime, when Scarlett remembered Rhett, another event was also reproduced by her fatigued mind. It was the moment when Rhett cupped her face and kissed her. He kissed her slowly, possessively, deeply, and he left her in no doubt that she was the only woman he wanted, now or ever. But at that moment she didn't understand and appreciate that, while now her brain came to recognize that. Scarlett recalled that Rhett's mouth was firm and quite insistent, parting her lips so that he could taste all her sweetness. The kiss went on forever, and when she interrupted him and slapped him across his swarthy face. As she then insulted him, she still was a little dizzy from pleasure and his proximity to her. Their kiss was a long, hard, passionate kiss that took her breath away.

As Rhett hugged and embraced her, Scarlett felt as if she belonged in his arms. At that moment she felt as though the world had receded, leaving her alone with her memories about Rhett in their intimate paradise. She had never been more aware that she was female in her life than she felt at the moment when Rhett kissed her, and Rhett Butler was definitely male, all male, dizzily male and dangerously male. The way Scarlett felt about him at that moment was new for her, and she didn't dare to admit that he had always affected her that way. When he kissed her, he overwhelmed her with his powerful presence. It was never the same with Ashley whose kisses were sweet and pleasant but never as powerful and passionate as that single kiss with Rhett on the road near Rough and Ready. Ashley never made her feel so dizzy from pleasure, so free, so careless, so female and so alive, extremely alive.

Scarlett couldn't help herself - she was remembering Rhett. She often caught herself on a thought that she wanted to feel Rhett's sweet kiss again. She wished to reignite the passion that was burning inside him at the moment when he was kissing her before leaving for the war. At that moment his passion was undeniably strong, while she also felt that passion and desire, but she was too stubborn to admit and recognize that for herself, and so she simply pulled back and slept Rhett across his face. Only know, when she recalled her sensations, she again felt her knees trembling - she wished to have more kisses from him. Scarlett knew that it wasn't proper for a lady to think about that and to feel that way, but she couldn't help herself as she was thinking about those things and as she was feeling so. And her feelings were too real, as real as the thumping of her heart, the deep drawing of her breath, the pulsing of blood through her veins.

When Scarlett hadn't seen Rhett for years, she had managed to submerge her thoughts of him. However, now when she was going to find him in Atlanta and ask him for a loan, even possibly to become his mistress, her memories about him turned much more vivid. By now she had already realized that she wasn't a chaperon and the arbiter of morals, and she gradually got accustomed to that thought. As a result, each time the pale green eyes locked with the crystal grey, Scarlett's eyes turned dark green and her face had a wistful, visionary expression because she remembered Rhett, as though not Ashley but Rhett was in front of her at that moment. Scarlett didn't analyze what she felt and why it was so. She simply felt that. She was in prison of contradictions because she couldn't have forgiven Rhett as he had left her alone the road near Rough and Ready and because she had wanted to meet with him.

One evening, after Scarlett and Mammy had finished their sewing the dress, Scarlett felt as fatigue was overcoming her. She decided to miss the dinner and to sleep for a couple of hours as she felt really tired. As soon as Mammy left the room, Scarlett stretched her body on the old wooden bed and her pale green eyes slip closed. She was sleeping. In several hours, she opened her eyes, her gaze wandering across the darkness of the bedroom. She could see almost nothing. She straightened her body and sat in the bed, her right hand trying to find the candelabrum on the bedside table. As she lit the candle, some dim light flooded the room. Scarlett could see the shadowy silhouettes of the chest of drawer, of her bed, and of some other pieces of furniture in the room. Her eyes fixed on the cloak on the mantle and she saw that it was rather late – it was nearly midnight.

Scarlett gasped as she didn't plan to sleep for such a long time: instead of a couple of hours she had slept around five hours. She silently cursed as she was angry at herself. What will she do now as she planned to get up at six in the morning? She distorted her own day schedule for next day, she mused. Scarlett put her legs down from the bed and rose to her feet. She felt her body stiff after she was laying without any movement for several hours, in the same position – on her back, her hands at her sides. Scarlett made several movements and felt better as numbness and slumber receded and soon entirely evaporated.

As her stomach rumbled and reminded her about hunger, Scarlett decided that she would go downstairs and try to find something for herself in the kitchen. She took a candelabrum and headed to the door. As she opened the door, hot anger swept through her body as she heard that obnoxious, drawling scratch of the door. Scarlett cursed again because that scratch reminded her about her poverty and about the true state of the deals at Tara. She was again bathing in her absolute, dark misery.

"Damn this poverty! Damn it! Damn the Yankees!" Scarlett cursed as she was descending the stairs in the dark house.

Suddenly, Scarlett heard the familiar voice that whispered something very close to her. It was a low male voice, a voice that murmured something but she didn't understand it. That voice drew her forward and she kept going ahead in the darkness, deeper into that stonework maze of light and dark.

"Who is here?" Scarlett asked. "Who is here?" she repeated.

The answer was somebody's heavy breathing. The voice sounded somewhere close to her. Scarlett stood rooted at the bottom of the stairs and looked around, but it seemed that there was nobody there. Then the same voice whispered something else, even closer to Scarlett. Now Scarlett knew who was murmuring something unclear. It was Ashley's voice. Scarlett made a movement toward the living room and soon again stopped. She looked around and again saw nobody.

"Ashley, are you here?" she questioned.

A small silence followed. Then Scarlett heard the steps as somebody was approaching her. She turned around and saw Ashley's face. He was dressed in the same dirty, clouted working clothes, including the old shirt that had earlier belonged to Scarlett's father Gerald O'Hara. Ashley looked tired, very tired, as though he hadn't slept for several weeks. Moreover, he also looked unkempt: he was unshaven, while his hair was disheveled and unwashed, with long bangs spilling over his left eye. Suddenly, Scarlett realized that it was not the first day when Ashley looked so. She didn't notice that as she was absorbed in so many problems, problems connected with different options how to get money to pay taxes on Tara. Ashley looked so as he had been working very hard at a task of the replacement of the fence in the orchard. He was very tired from hard physical work.

Ashley came closer to Scarlett. In the dim light of the room, Scarlett distinguished Ashley's faint smile that stirred both his lips and his crystal grey eyes. They were watching each other with attention, suspense, and astonishment as nobody expected to see one another downstairs at that late hour.

Scarlett raised her chin. "Ashley, what are you doing here?"

"Scarlett, I couldn't sleep and just came downstairs. I needed to think about my life. I also was in the library," he confessed.

Every muscle in Scarlett's face tightened and her eyes sparkled with arctic splinters. "Great balls of fire, Ashley! How can you think about at these foolish things at this late hour? You must get up early in the morning and start working. There is a lot of work with the replacement of the fences." Her voice sounded as an order rather than as a request.

"Scarlett, I will do everything. Please, don't worry," Ashley replied softly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was thinking, Scarlett."

"I think Melanie will be worried if she awakes and doesn't find you in the room," Scarlett said after a short pause.

Scarlett and Ashley were still standing in front of each other. She was holding the candelabrum in her right hand, while Ashley had his hands down at his sides.

Ashley sighed heavily. "Scarlett, I see that you have been avoiding me in the past days."

"Ashley, don't talk nonsense! I am not avoiding you," she countered him.

"Scarlett, Scarlett…" Ashley whispered. He shrugged and his shoulders slumped down in both physical and mental fatigue. Then he smiled, lamentably and with detachment. "I like the library at Tara. There are so many interesting books there. At home, at Twelve Oaks, we had always had an excellent library with many books by English and French authors."

Scarlett felt as anger at Ashley began to rise in her veins and venom was gradually dissolving in her bloodstream. She was biting her bottom lip. "My mother possessed these books in the library," she managed to say. To her utter surprise, she spoke quite calmly.

"I found a great book about the destruction of the Roman Empire in the library. It is a historical romance. It is so similar to how the Old South was ruined. But while the Roman Empire was ruined by the tyrannical, dissipated Roman Emperors, the Old South was ruined by the Yankees," he said half dreamily, half musingly.

As Ashley had said that, Scarlett was on the verge of losing her temper. It appeared that Ashley was going to infuriate her again. At that moment she was very outraged, her cheeks were flushing. Anger directed her steps away from Ashley as she stepped backward, her legs nearly buckled twice. One thing she couldn't abide anymore was Ashley's constant talk about the past and about the things she neither wished to talk about nor liked to talk about. She felt as though she had been intimidated and manipulated by that useless chat about the literature. However, although Scarlett felt angry at Ashley, it still hurt her deeply to think that Ashley didn't realize the reality that in their miserable situation they could have been ejected from Tara if she hadn't find Rhett Butler in Atlanta or if he hadn't given money to her.

Scarlett raised her left hand to make Ashley keep silent. "Ashley, I don't care for the Roman Empire and for the Roman Emperors. I care for us and for Tara. I care for what we will do if I don't find three hundred dollars to pay taxes," she said in a higher voice.

Ashley's crystal grey eyes fixed on Scarlett's face. "What are you up to, Scarlett?"

"I am going to meet Rhett Butler in Atlanta," she spat.

"Rhett Butler... That man from Charleston?"

She nodded. "Yes, that man from Charleston."

"I have often remembered Rhett Butler since I met him last time at Twelve Oaks. He was the only man who had been so rational and so intelligent and who had said that the Yankees would win the war."

Scarlett laughed quietly. "And Rhett Butler was correct as he had been much cleverer than we all had been."

"I can only agree," he said humbly.

"Ashley, go to bed," she offered.

Ashley was standing half turned to Scarlett. He closed his eyes for an instance and then opened them. He inhaled deeply. "What are you going to say to Rhett Butler, Scarlett?"

"Ashley, I am going to borrow money from him, possibly, even to mortgage Tara if it is necessary."

Ashley averted his eyes from Scarlett. "I am not sure that he would agree."

Scarlett took a deep breath. "I hope Rhett Butler will agree because it is our last chance, Ashley."

"I see, Scarlett." Ashley paused. He was still looking away. Suddenly, he turned to face her and his crystal grey eyes focused on Scarlett. "Scarlett, I will probably relocate to New York as I have a chance to secure a job at the bank there."

A small silence hung over them. Scarlett also didn't glance at him. "Ashley, I don't think that Melanie will like this idea. Living among the Yankees will be unpleasant for you, your wife, and your son," she admitted.

"I know, Scarlett. But what else can I do in this new life? I feel as though I had been buried forever in the old life ruined by the Yankees, and the walls of my tomb are much thicker than those of any jail," he said in a steady voice.

Scarlett flinched at those words. She felt a great pity to that man in front of her, lost in the world of shadows and in the past and so tired, unable to adapt to reality. She knew that Ashley couldn't help her, but she was also enraged that Ashley didn't make any attempt to stop her as she announced that she was going to meet with Rhett Butler. Ashley was a clever, intelligent man, and Scarlett realized that he had guessed what could have happened if Rhett Butler hadn't given a loan to her. The combination of her feelings for Ashley was very difficult to realize and analyze for Scarlett. What Scarlett knew was that she no longer felt as enthusiastic to talk to Ashley as she had felt throughout the old days. At one side, she pitied Ashley, while at another side she was infuriated. Finally, anger superseded pity.

Scarlett swung around on him in anger. "Ashley, please go to your room. Don't want to talk about the old days and the Old South that is now gone. Please, don't talk about the things that are not related to my main problem now – how to get money to pay taxes on Tara."

Ashley stepped closer to her, making her turn around. Then he grabbed her shoulders, tenderly and accurately. "I am sorry, Scarlett. I am very sorry." He shook her lightly. "I am sorry. I am very sorry," he repeated.

"You don't have to be sorry," she said in a calmer voice.

Ashley stepped backward and stopped rooted. Then he smiled with a lamentable, enigmatic smile. "Goodnight, Scarlett," he said meekly.

Shaking her head, she finally glanced up at her knight. "Goodnight, Ashley," she replied.

Ashley turned around and began ascending the stairs. He was leaving. He grew smaller and smaller. He turned his face away and didn't look at Scarlett.

An unexpected anguish lanced Scarlett's heart, but she didn't know its nature.

"_Wait. I love you," _the old Scarlett exclaimed.

"_Wait, you don't love him. Let him leave_," the new Scarlett cried out.

Scarlett was confused. She didn't know if those words had arisen in her heart or in her mind, but she knew that they somehow typified the truth or at least the semblance of truth. At one side, she was ready to lift a hand to delay Ashley, willing him closer, almost weeping for the lack of his touch. In the meantime, she was ready to let him go as she was irritated and angry at him, as he was no more than a burden for her at those agonizing days of starvation and poverty. She didn't know what she felt. It seemed to be something like deadlock. As Ashley vanished upstairs without ever glancing at her again, Scarlett's mind inferred that it had probably been even for the best that he had left her there.

After the meeting with Ashley, Scarlett no longer wanted to eat. Her appetite vaporized as though she hadn't been hungry when she had decided to come downstairs. She turned around and marched in the direction of the staircase. As she was climbing the stairs, she didn't looking back. She was coming noiselessly, on her tiptoes, as a panther. She retired to her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. She was soundly asleep very quickly.

Next morning Scarlett awoke very early, at around half past six in the morning. She heard some noises and some voices in the corridor and downstairs. Her hand reached her face and she realized that she had awoken to the fact of hot tears on her pale cheeks and her hands. Then despair crushed her again. Physically exhausted from hard work and starvation, she felt very uneasy, and any movement of her legs and hands was a torment for her, especially a movement of her feet. She felt as though her body had been under great physical tortures, her legs as though chained to the posts of the bed. She tried to move, but it was painful for her as she could move her legs only slightly, without any sharp movements. It was as though the chains had been short enough that she could scoot around only a very little. It all was the result of the war and the after-war days, of all that stress and despair she had been bathing in for so much time.

Scarlett stretched her body across the bed, her eyes fixing on the old bed covers. A feeling of disgust and anger retreated into her bruised heart. Scarlett moaned slightly, and it was a moan of despair, a protesting moan of iron against iron, as she wanted to drag herself out of her despair and her misery. But nothing could help her and she began to weep. As ten minutes passed, Scarlett's tears began to dry, her mind cleared up, and she sighed heavily. She stopped herself from further hysteria, sucking in her breath and cursing the Yankees and the war and the impoverishment she had to survive through.

Scarlett closed her green eyes. She recalled how yesterday she met Ashley downstairs and what they were talking about. She remembered her thoughts and a combination of strange feelings for Ashley – anger and rampage for his usefulness and helplessness at one side and pity and even some kindness at another side. What did she feel for Ashley Wilkes? Her mind was in a prison of contradictions because she was angry at Ashley and because she simultaneously pitied him. She didn't know what would come next: intensified anger at Ashley and at the whole situation or certain appeasement and even peace if she manages to survive through that calamity. Her heart was as though ripped out from her chest in her confusion and her despair. Slowly and surely, Scarlett tried to slow the panic in her mind and in her blood. She thought fiercely of Rhett Butler and tried to persuade herself that he would give money to her. She said to herself again that she would become his mistress if it was necessary, tilting away from wings of scarlet shame and larger-than-life guilt which she would have if she had to sacrifice her principles and Southern virtues.

All of a sudden, Scarlett felt a caressing hand on her forehead. She opened her eyes and saw Mammy who was gently stroking her raven hair. She felt much better at Mammy's touch, as though she had passed to the old woman many of her burdens.

"Miss Scarlett, did you awake with tears?" Mammy asked in a gentle voice.

Scarlett gave a half node, her head on the pillow, her raven hair being in a slight, beautiful disorder. "Yes, it is so, Mammy," she whispered.

"Miss Scarlett, you are very tired. I didn't awake you yesterday as you decided to have a nap and to miss the dinner," Mammy supplied. "I know that you must have your rest after so much work you had been doing in the past years."

"Thank you, Mammy. But I didn't sleep well. I awoke nearly at midnight and went downstairs to the kitchen, but I met Ashley there."

Mammy's dark face turned alarmed. "What happened, my lamb?"

"Mammy, nothing happened. Ashley was again talking about the old days and about the books in the library. I fear I cannot stand it any longer."

"My lamb, Mister Ashley is simply very different from you."

Scarlett stared at Mammy. "I don't care for his books! We are going to Atlanta soon, and it is much more important. I must find money," she said firmly. She sighed and shut her eyes for an instance. "I will find money," she pledged.

Mammy thought that if Scarlett had had a cross in her hands, she would have given such an oath on the cross. She looked very serious, her voice sounded as a voice of a person giving the last resolution.

"You will find the money," Mammy murmured in an unsure voice.

Mammy wasn't as sure as Scarlett was, but she had to inspire and enliven Scarlett. Mammy looked at Scarlett, so fragile, so delicate and so vulnerable at that moment, despite her resolute oath to find the money. At that moment the old woman was wishing she could take Scarlett into her arms, but her mistress looked so brittle that Mammy was afraid to touch her.

Scarlett glared at Mammy. "I must find it."

"Miss Scarlett, are you so distressed because of the last conversation with Mister Ashley?"

Scarlett shrugged. "No, Mammy. It is just because of all uncertainty and all problems with money. You know that I hate this poverty."

Mammy nodded. "I know this, my lamb."

Scarlett gave a choked little, bitter laugh. "I guess my recent conversation with Ashley and our late conversation in the orchard were just not meant to be. Now I don't know what I feel. I cannot tolerate Ashley's absolutely foolish talk, but I feel great pity for him. I don't know why it is so. This is the end of the story."

"Is it?" Mammy questioned hesitatingly.

Scarlett raised her evasive gaze and stared directly at Mammy. Her eyes turned painfully dry. "Yes, it is. Ashley said that he would probably move to New York soon. As he is useless here, I won't mind having fewer burdens," she said half consciously, half truthfully.

Mammy smiled at her. "Miss Scarlett, I think you are growing up."

Scarlett let out a chilling smile to mold her tensed lips. "Mammy, I don't care for any idle talk now. Let's get up and have a quick breakfast. We must continue sewing the dress," she instructed with finality.

Mammy only sighed. "Yes, my lamb," she answered obediently.

* * *

_Finally, the next chapter is uploaded. We still don't have Rhett here as I believe that Scarlett needed more time to think of her feelings for Ashley. In the next chapter Rhett will appear._

_If you think that this story is going to be very optimistic, then it is a mistake. A__ pessimistic twist is planned to be introduced in the next two chapters. However, I still don't know whether I will use this twist._

_Warning! As the story wasn't updated for quite some time, please don't forget to read chapter 2 before chapter 3._

_I wanted to let you know that I am going to the self-exile for several weeks or a month starting from April 6. My family circumstances pressure me very much, so I am forced to do that. Therefore, the story won't be updated very quickly._

_Miss Dixie, please if you ever read this chapter, come back from your self-exile! I miss you very much. I know that we all miss you!_

_Helen and Ondine, please never stop writing your wonderful stories!_

_Scarlettrhett4erever, I also miss you very much! I hope you are doing fine._

_As always, reviews are appreciated. Thank you._


End file.
